


Have you seen a Colorado Sunset

by LaDonnaErrante



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canonical Character Death, Chronic Illness, M/M, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 12:25:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5666002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaDonnaErrante/pseuds/LaDonnaErrante
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius decides to take up life as a ski-bum in a small town in the Rocky Mountains.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Have you seen a Colorado Sunset

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Remus/Sirius Games 2015. Prompt: "Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky." ~ Rabindranath Tagore

Sirius drove over Berthoud Pass for the first time in the pouring rain; a cloud stuck on the mountain laid a thick fog across the road. Sirius drove slowly and carefully, trying his best to stay on the right side of the road. Padfoot breathed in his ear and drool dripped on his arm, as the big shaggy dog watched over Sirius' shoulder. Sirius was cursing quietly under his breath, a steady stream of "shit, fuck, shit shit, steady on Black, you can do it. That's it don't fuck it up now." 

The streets of London felt far away with the snowy slopes of the Rocky Mountains in view. "Welcome to our new home, Padfoot." The dog just whined and wagged his tail a bit. "It's not the same, but I promise you'll like anyway," Sirius said as if he didn't mean it. In response, Padfoot licked his face. For a brief second he squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself not to think of James, Lily and little Harry, in order to prevent himself from purposely driving off the road. Padfoot whined slightly, and Sirius drove on. 

Once in the Fraser Valley, the rain let up and the sun peeked timidly through the clouds, giving a golden tint to the spring green. Sirius rolled down the window, and blasted a Sex Pistols eight-track. The sweet scent of earth after rain mingled with pine filled his nostrils. Something good would come of this, he was sure. 

He rolled into Winter Park and found a cheap motel. The lad at the desk had seemed friendly enough--giving him directions to Lazy Hippogriff Ranch where he could most likely find work tomorrow and to the best pub in town. 

The Library was dark and musty but Sirius sat himself down at the bar and waved the bartender over. He was a young man, with sandy brown hair and a quiet, worn look to him. 

"What can I get you?"

"What's good on tap?"

"One Pilfering Peeve's Pumpkin Ale coming up." As he pulled the pint, he said, "You're new here."

"Yep. Just got in." 

"England?"

Sirius nodded. "London. Have you lived here long?"

"Practically my whole life. Went to school in town, came back here to teach."

"So Professor Barkeep, any advice for an aspiring ski bum?" 

"Hah hah. I teach at Wild Hog Elementary during the school year. This is just my summertime gig. You're about six months early for ski season. As for advice? Buy snow tires. You'll thank me." 

The bartender walked away, leaving Sirius to drink in silence. 

The next evening, Sirius found himself at the Library once again. "A pilfering pumpkin,' he said to the man behind the bar, "and pour one for yourself too. We're celebrating." 

"What are exactly are you celebrating?"

"My new job and my first friend!"

"Ah, so you found a place to sleep the days away until the first snow? And where, might I ask is this friend you speak of?"

"Tsk tsk, I'll have you know I'm the new bike mechanic at Lazy Hippogriff Ranch. And you are, of course!"

"Ah the taxing and revered work of playing in grease. Well I don't know you at all, but it seems to suit you. And we're not friends. You don't even know my name."

"I'm Sirius," he said, brandished a flashing a grin and letting his hair fall in his eyes. "What's your name?"

"Remus," the man said, and shook, though he rolled his eyes slightly at Sirius' flirtatious manner. He poured the drinks and handed one to Sirius. 

Sirius raised his glass, "To playing in grease and teaching brats." They clinked glasses and sipped their beers. By the time Sirius left the pub, the night was chilly and the stars were out. It was clear and the moon was new, so the dark sky was covered in a carpet of white stars. As Sirius looked up, letting the cool air fill his lungs, he didn't think he'd ever seen so many stars. He felt small and cold, but there was a warmth in his belly when he thought of Remus' reluctant smile. 

Once Sirius moved into a trailer in Fraser, he fell into an easy routine. Rising early in the still and quiet morning hours when the light was still blue, he watched the sun come up through his rearview mirror as he and Padfoot drove to the ranch. Padfoot played with the other ranch dogs, catching rabbits and prairie dogs as Sirius worked tuning up the mountain bikes the ranch rented to tourists and helping out with other odds and ends. He made a habit of ending his days at The Library, chatting with Remus and other locals. Entranced by the simplicity of small town conversation, he listened as ranchers complained about fences that needed mending or "what a wet summer we're having," which always seemed ridiculous to Sirius after the London rain. 

It was enough of a distraction. Only when he awoke in the night, did he think of James and Lily. He spent those nights pacing the narrow trailer, thinking over every detail of the day of the accident, trying on different scenarios, what if James had been driving instead of me? What if we'd decided to go for a picnic instead of to a museum? What if we'd taken the tube? The moonlight shone through the windows illuminating Sirius' anxious thoughts and reminded him of sneaking out with James when they were at school together. All the while, Padfoot, who had long since accepted his owner's restlessness, snored in his bed. In the fresh morning dew and crisp air, a sense of normalcy would return and Sirius treasured the rhythm of his days and mostly chose not to think about his turbulent nights. 

In Remus he found a kindred spirit--just as likely to be sarcastic as Sirius and who feigned annoyance at Sirius' antics, but whose smirk always betrayed a sense of fun and a longing to join in. The Library was hardly ever busy, and when Sirius lingered at the bar, poking fun at the rhythms of rural life, Remus told stories about how much the valley had changed. 

"You're just as much of a grumpy old codger as the rest of them." Sirius would say when Remus complained about the new lodges going up and the rising price of gas, or wax lyrical about bird watching expeditions or the finer qualities of a bale of hay. 

"Yep, twenty-five going on sixty, and that's how I like it." 

And they would laugh. 

Sirius found himself looking forward to exchanging quips with Remus, and so when, one evening in mid-July Remus wasn't behind the bar at The Library, Sirius was disappointed. In Remus' stead there was a leather-skinned bloke called Fletcher, who was personable but seedy. Sirius ordered his usual and stayed for a bit to chew the fat, but went home early. When the next day Remus was still absent, he asked the bartender about it and found that Remus was home sick. 

On the third day, when there was still no Remus in sight, Sirius took matters into his own hands. It had been pouring rain all day, and even though it was summer, it was the kind of cold that seeped into your bones; Remus had to be miserable. He asked Fletcher where Remus lived and the barkeep, with little more than a questioning look, directed Sirius to the Loony Lupine Ranch, an old, rundown place outside of Fraser. Stopping at the pharmacy for supplies, Sirius made his way to Remus' house. The sky and the road where the same gunmetal grey as the sheets of rain; the traffic lights left long green and red streaks as as their lights reflected off the water in the road. He turned off the highway onto an unpaved county road and from there onto an even smaller lane until he saw the entrance to the ranch and a log cabin. He and Padfoot made a run for it, trying not to get drenched, and banged on the door. 

After a long pause, and another round of banging, he heard Remus' faint voice: "I'm coming. I'm coming." The door opened, and Remus, who looked pale and exhausted, wore an expression of shock. "Sirius, what are you doing here? And what is that?" He pointed at the soaked dog, who not seeming to mind the downpour at all was wagging his tail cheerfully. 

"This is my loyal companion Padfoot, we're here to cheer you up. I come bearing tea and tissues, or kleeeenex as you lot call them." He exaggerated the word, joking because he realized, all of a sudden, that Remus might have plenty of people in his life to take care of him. Growing sheepish, Sirius backtracked, "But if I'm imposing, I can just..." He motioned vaguely back out out towards the rain. 

"No, no, that's very...uh...thoughtful of you. Come on in. I do appreciate the thought," Remus said carefully, "but I don't actually have a cold." 

"Oh, well I've got saltines and ginger ale."

Remus sighed as he led Sirius through the entryway and instructed him to remove his muddy boots. "I'm not stomach sick either." He sat down on the sofa with a groan, and put his legs up, offering a threadbare armchair to Sirius. Padfoot jumped up onto the sofa with Remus, with no invitation, and Remus grumbled a bit about muddy paws and the smell of wet dog, but the damage was done. The big dog curled up next to Remus and laid its head across his chest, wearing a look of sympathy in its eyes. 

"What's wrong then?" Sirius asked, only realizing his mistake when he saw the look of panicked embarrassment on Remus' face. "Sorry, I don't need to know."

"It's okay," Remus said, grimacing a bit, "I've got Lyme disease. It's chronic, I'll have it forever. And there will always be days where I look like shit on toast."

Sirius barked a laugh, and then looked at him gravely. 

"Stop that!" Remus said, "I'm not dying, I'm not contagious. And I don't need your pity."

Sirius shifted his expression remarkably quickly and then said, "But you can't say no to a proper cup of English tea." And rose to find Remus' kettle and some cups. 

They chatted quietly for an hour or more. Remus explained that they'd found the tick when he was only 10, after a camping trip with his parents in the East. There were good days and bad days, but his parents, blaming themselves, had tried all the remedies traditional and nontraditional: medicines which made him sicker and interminable yoga classes and spiritual retreats, a zillion different diets. Sirius countered with visions of his own childhood--afternoons spent in uncomfortable cotillion clothes and evenings enduring stiff aristocratic dinners. He even elicited a smile from Remus' face, terse with pain, telling stories about the pranks he used pull on the servants. 

Sirius was clearing their cups and saucers, when Remus said, "The rain let up. Let's go outside." 

"What for?"

"Just come give me a hand getting off the damn couch." Sirius returned to the living room and provided a hand as Remus got up with a grunt, knees aching. Remus grabbed a towel and a blanket. They made their way to the back porch where there sat two rusting lawn chairs, which Remus toweled off. They sat, in silence, and Sirius watched as the sunset painted the clouds vibrant shades of pink and orange against the purple-blue mountains.

"Is it always like this?" Sirius asked as he took in the majesty.

"Most nights, but especially after a thunderstorm. That's the only good thing about the rain; it makes me ache, but there's always a good sunset. The colors feel so full of joy."

Sirius smiled, and looked at Remus, who was still pale but who wore an expression of contentment. He hesitated for a moment, feeling his heart too full with the quiet joy of the moment and then placed a hand on Remus'. 

When Sirius entered The Library several days later, and he found Remus had returned, his smile brightened. 

"You're back," he boomed, but Remus didn't answer him. 

Instead, he avoided eye contact and said quietly, "your usual?"

Sirius nodded, confused. 

He stood outside patiently, underneath the glittering milky way, as Remus closed up the bar. Remus nearly bumped into him in the dark, as he left the building. 

"Jesus! Sirius? What are you doing?"

"Waiting for you. What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know what you mean." Remus said carefully. 

"You barely said two words to me all night! I don't get it, we were getting along fine."

Remus sighted. "You really don't understand do you? You just sweep in here loud and bright and cheerful and expect everyone around you to be amused. Well it doesn't work that way."

"You didn't seem to mind until today." Sirius was angry, "I thought we were friends." 

There was a long silence. Remus looked intently at the ground. Sirius said quietly, "I thought we were going to be more than friends." 

Remus looked up, meeting Sirius' intense gaze, his eyes still blazing with anger. "We are friends." Remus in a very small voice. 

"You're not acting like it." 

"I don't....no one's ever done that for me before. No one who didn't have to anyways. The other day, I mean. I've worked really hard to keep people from seeing me like that, especially the people I've really liked."

"Oh." Sirius, deflated, looking lost and forlorn for a brief moment. "Well, I guess if it's too much, after all that, we don't have to...I can just go." He turned and began to walk away. Remus caught his arm to stop him and kissed him. For a moment Sirius was stunned, feeling only, Remus' thin lips on his and the scratch of light stubble on his chin. Then, kissing back, he felt the warmth of Remus body against his and smiled. 

 

The early fall morning that Remus took Sirius to Aberforth's Hot Springs and Resort for the first time, clouds lay on the valley floor, and past Granby the highway wound through the fog. They sat in companionable silence. Fiddling with a bit of string, Sirius looked forlornly out the window. 

"Does it remind you of London?"

"Err, sort of. It's kind of cool to see the distinct clouds. In London you're just in the thick of it, you forget it's just a cloud. It seems like it will go on and on." 

As they came out of the lowest part of the valley, climbing towards the town of Hot Sulphur Springs, rainbows claimed space between grey clouds and blue sky, coming into view around red-brown rock formations and stretching over green meadows dotted with steers. 

The sharp, rotten sulfur odor of the springs filled their noses in the moments before they became used to it, and walked down the wooden boardwalks to a small empty pool. Sitting close together on the bottom of the pool, almost touching, they relaxed quietly in the hot water. Sirius kept his gaze on the fluffy white clouds slowly drifting across the blue sky. He didn't dare look at Remus, for fear of breaking the tenuous intimacy that had crept into their day. He wasn't quite sure what to do with it, but it felt sacred, worthy of reverence in a way that nothing had for a long while. If only he could preserve this moment, perfect in its stillness, so that it would remain untouched as if in amber for all time. Then Remus let out a small sigh, the kind that Sirius knew by now was one of pain releasing its grip on Remus' muscles and joints. Sirius looked over at him, and found Remus watching him carefully. Sirius met his eyes, and Remus brushed a hand lightly over his cheek: "Can you tell me what you're running from?"

Sirius removed Remus' hand from his face, but held onto it, gripping it tightly and looking away. He was quiet for a long time. Opening his mouth several times, he could not make the words come out. Tears welled in his eyes, and he stared hard at the mountainside for a while. When Remus ran a hand along the back of his neck, he choked out a sob. "I haven't...I haven't really talked about it. There was the police investigation, of course, but that doesn't really count. They asked a lot of bloody stupid questions and in the end it didn't make a difference. Pettigrew isn't behind bars and Harry's stuck with those terrible people, and there isn't anything I could do about it." He babbled as the floodgates broke and his utter lack of language was replaced with too many words. He took a shaky breath and started over. 

"I messed up, really badly. I was driving my best friends, James and Lily and their kid, my godson Harry, home from a day at the museum on Halloween last year. There was a drunk driver, and I swerved but we rolled. I was distracted, making faces at Harry in the mirror instead of paying attention.

"James and Lily both died instantly. But Harry survived."

"Where is he now?" Remus asked, nearly whispering. 

"With an aunt and uncle, in Surrey. They found me unfit to take him in. So here I am." 

"Oh Sirius," Remus' voice held a reverent sort of sadness, that Sirius might have mistaken for pity, if he hadn't known that Remus loathed it. 

Remus dragged Sirius hiking one bright Saturday morning in late September, telling him it was a chance to see the aspen trees changing. Remus and Sirius emerged from the shade of a pine forest stopping to rest in a meadow filled with wildflowers. The sun was high in the sky, warming their faces even as the breeze chilled them. Padfoot ran back and forth ahead of them, paws muddy from the cold stream and carrying an enormous stick in his mouth. Sirius breathed heavily, trying to adjust to the sudden elevation gain. Remus turned to him, smiling widely. 

"Okay, you're right. This is kicking my ass." Sirius said in between gulps of air. Without saying a word, Remus sat on a log smoothed by wind and weather, inviting Sirius to sit next to him. 

"So, this is what you wanted me to see."

"Not exactly. Look up there on that hillside." Sirius saw the facing peak thinly dotted with pine trees, above the golden aspen groves, just like every other hill in the valley.

"Do you see all the bare trees--they look purplish, in between the healthy ones?"

Sirius nodded. 

"They've been destroyed by pine beetles. When I was a kid, that whole slope was thick with forest. But since pine beetles started living up here, they've decimated the trees. All the mountains, they look different than they did ten years ago. I've watched this whole place change completely."

Sirius watched Remus carefully; he was squinting into the sun, but he couldn't tell where he was going with this. 

"Beautiful things get destroyed, man, that's what happens. Don't have to tell me that," Sirius said bitterly. 

"That's beside the point." 

"Then what is the point? The trees were here and now they're gone and the mountain won't every be the same."

"Most of the wood furniture you see at places in town? It's made from trees killed by the pine beetle. And the ranches are planting blue spruce and fir trees. In another fifty years, it will be green again." 

Sirius looked at him darkly. "So I'm supposed to just move on as if James and Lily and Harry meant nothing? I should just get over it, is that it?" He stalked off, leaving his pack at Remus' feet. He walked briskly through the meadow, fuming. Remus, should know better. James and Lily didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve this. Eventually he stopped, looking up at the sky and letting the litany of angry things he wanted to say to Remus circle his mind, as he watched two small wisps of cloud make their way across the sky. He didn't think he'd ever seen a sky quite so blue. As the intense blue of the sky washed away his anger, he began to remember James and Lily and little Harry, playing together on a summer day in Godric's Hollow. Harry's laughter ringing out, a tiny echo of James' booming tones. He felt the hot wetness of a few tears rolling down his cheeks, and let out a rough sound that wasn't quite a sob but wasn't really a laugh either. He started a bit then, when Remus put a hand on his shoulder. 

"I didn't mean you should forget about them. The pine beetle is changing this ecosystem, forever. Just because it's possible to make room for new growth, doesn't mean it will go back to being the same."

"It's going to take a long time, isn't it?"

"Always does. But it's worth waiting for." 

Sirius wiped his eyes, and put an arm around Remus' shoulder, smiling tentatively. "Onward."


End file.
